


bright eyes, broken mirror

by katelusive



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Canon, First Time, Gratuitous Banter, M/M, Porn, many feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-31 01:50:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3959902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katelusive/pseuds/katelusive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deep in his heart, Zayn knows that things will never go back to the way they were.  He’s willing to bet Liam knows it too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	bright eyes, broken mirror

**Author's Note:**

> Set right after the infamous Vegas fight of June 2012. This is super long, extremely self-indulgent and frankly obscene. SORRY NOT SORRY

“Can we talk?” asks Liam in a jumble before Zayn’s even properly through the door.  He’s sat cross-legged on the bed, barefoot, hands fidgeting in his lap. His eyes look puffy.

“Are you crying?” asks Zayn, trying to keep his voice devoid of emotion.

“No,” says Liam, wiping his eyes with the back of his wrist.   Zayn furiously bites back a wash of tenderness.  He wants to stay angry.  He _is_ angry, and with very good reason.

The rage of earlier has settled into a low burn, throbbing along with his right hand, but he’s not ready to give it up just yet. He stares coldly at the fancy wallpaper as he undoes his watch.  Studiously ignoring Liam, he checks his hair in the mirror.  It looks alright.

“Danielle went out with her sister, if you’re wondering,” Liam mumbles.  “She’s not like, hanging around waiting for me or anything.” 

“Cool,” says Zayn, like he couldn’t care less, although his jaw tightens just at the mention of her name.  He can see Liam’s pouty look from the bed in his peripheral vision but he doesn’t make eye contact as he takes his shoes off and lines them up by the door.  One by one, slow and precise.

“You’re still pissed at me, then,” says Liam, quiet and sad.  Zayn tries to keep his eyes icy as he looks at him and shrugs.  Liam gazes earnestly back with his messy hair and his Spiderman t-shirt and his big brown eyes red-rimmed from crying and it’s just not _fair_.  Yeah, Zayn’s fucking mad at him.  But it was easy when they were screaming at each other across the hotel room, fury crumpled dark and painful in his heart.  He poured it into his voice onstage, high on the savage pleasure of Liam’s hurt eyes every time he turned away. 

It’s harder now when it’s just the two of them in this quiet after-midnight glow, looking at each other with the bright pinpricks of Vegas out the window and faint lilting jazz from somewhere below them. Liam’s lower lip juts out a little, like he might start crying again.  Zayn wants to run his thumb across it.

Instead, he sits down on the edge of the bed. “The match was cool,” he says finally. “Not that I got to see any of it. I got a photo with Manny though, wanna see?”

“Yeah, okay.”  Liam offers a tentative smile as he crawls forward next to Zayn. He smells like laundry soap and faint cologne.  Zayn wants to punch him in the face, and kiss him a thousand times. 

“Look, he hugged me, it was sick,” says Zayn, a little giddy in spite of himself, scrolling through the pictures on his phone. 

“Awesome.  Wow, that’s a good one.”  Liam’s chin is practically resting on his shoulder as he looks at the screen, and Zayn swallows. He smells so good. Zayn wants to push him backwards on the bed and snog him senseless.  Or just shove him out of the window. 

“I only got to see him for like, two minutes though,” he says, throwing his phone aside on the bed, “he was all surrounded by people.” He turns around to face Liam who nods quickly, fingers fidgeting.  They stare at each other until Zayn finally says, “What?”

“I um, I wanted to talk to you after the show,” Liam mumbles. “You ran away too fast.” Zayn gives him a measured look, something pounding hard in his chest again, anger or something else, he can’t be sure anymore.  He’s never sure.

“I know,” he says carefully.  “I didn’t want to talk.”

“How about now?” asks Liam.  “What do you want now?”

His eyes are so open, so sincere, and Zayn quite genuinely wants to slap him across the face.

“I wanna slap you,” he says.

“Do I deserve that?” asks Liam, chewing his lower lip. Zayn tries not to stare. He struggles to hang onto his anger.  It’s slipping away though, fluttering to the carpet and dissolving like white ash.

“Yes,” says Zayn.  “Maybe.  I don’t know.” 

“I probably do,” says Liam, lifting his chin and looking Zayn in the eye.  “I’m sorry Zayn. I’m sorry for shouting. I hate fighting with you.” He presses the back of his wrist to his eyes for a second, and then looks back up at Zayn like a hurt puppy. “I’m sorry for everything.”

Zayn chews his thumbnail.  Fucking noble Liam with his principles, always trying to be the bigger person.  It’s almost worse than fighting, because now they actually have to talk civilly about it. Zayn doesn’t have the right words for that. 

“It’s all good,” he says.  Even though it’s really not.  ‘I didn’t mean to lead you on,’ Liam had yelled, just before Zayn smashed his fist through the mirror.  ‘What the fuck were you doing then?’ he tried to scream back, but his hand was bleeding pretty bad and Liam was saying ‘oh shit oh shit’ and yelling for Paul and it was too late for the words to mean what he wanted. 

Liam’s still biting his lip.  “So are we – okay?” he asks.  He looks like he knows they aren’t.  Zayn almost wants to start yelling again, just because it was easier to be honest that way.  And it felt perversely good to make Liam lose control like that – to watch him shout until his face got red and he was actually crying with anger. 

But he’s not mad anymore.  It’s given way to the old familiar aches, bitter pining and love, hope gone dull-edged with emptiness.  He wants to hate Liam for the way his heart pounds when their eyes meet, but he can’t find it anywhere inside himself.

“I don’t know,” says Zayn, dropping his gaze into his lap.  Deep in his heart, he knows that things will never go back to the way they were.   That shattered that along with the mirror.  He’s willing to bet Liam knows it too.

Liam is sitting close enough that Zayn can feel the warmth from Liam’s knee radiating onto his own leg.  Zayn swallows, hard and dry, and it’s all or nothing, isn’t it? There had been a moment while they were fighting when Liam’s face was pushed up close to his, shouting something about Zayn bringing girls on the bus and double standards when their eyes locked, and Liam went silent. 

Zayn was overwhelmed by the sudden urge to kiss him, rough and brutal, leave him gasping for breath with bruised lips. Liam’s pink, full mouth was painfully tempting.  But the rage and hurt and ragged _longing_ had snapped him back to reality and he said “I’m not the one invited my fucking cheater girlfriend to America,” and Liam’s eyes had ripped away, dark and angry. All or nothing. How stupid can you be, he wanted to ask Liam. He still wants to ask it.   

Instead he reaches out and places his unbandaged hand on Liam’s leg, just where his thigh melds into knee. Liam watches him in silence, lips glistening and slightly parted. 

“You’re really annoying sometimes,” Zayn says quietly.

“So are you,” Liam whispers.  He touches Zayn’s wrist softly, his expression caught somewhere between anxiety and fondness.   Zayn squeezes his leg and Liam’s eyes jump to his face with a little smile. They stare at each other for a long moment.  Liam licks his lips.

“Fuck,” says Zayn, and kisses him.

Liam’s entire body goes still for a terrifying instant but then he’s kissing Zayn back, pressing their lips harder together. It’s already further than they’ve ever gone, and Zayn’s head swims with satisfaction and gaping, dizzy want. Liam’s mouth is soft and hot and he parts his lips just a bit, tilting his head to the side as his hand comes up to loosely grip Zayn’s shoulder. 

Zayn darts his tongue out tentatively to push against Liam’s lips, which open instantly to give him access.  Zayn’s drowning in the best possible way. He licks gently into Liam’s mouth, one hand coming up to cup the back of his neck, delving his fingers into the short soft curls there.  His tongue meets Liam’s and Liam lets out the smallest little moan. 

Zayn tries to press closer to him but it’s a bit awkward with their knees pushed together, and he breaks the kiss to untangle his legs.  Liam stares at him like a deer in the headlights.  

“Um,” says Liam, touching his mouth. Zayn’s heart is still pounding out of control. 

“What,” he says, voice half-defiant, half-joking, ready to defend himself.  Liam can’t claim ignorance this time; he can’t claim he didn’t realize. He’s fucking known it the whole time.

“I’ve just,” says Liam, eyes wide and disoriented. Zayn knows the feeling.  “I’ve wanted to do that for ages.”  

Zayn wants to say something clever but all he can manage is a mumbled half-groan as Liam leans forward and kisses him this time, big warm hands pressed to Zayn’s cheeks.  He wraps his arms around Liam and kisses back, heart beating so fast he thinks it might actually be dangerous.  Their tongues tangle together, Liam’s hand sliding down his neck and thumbing over his collarbone and _fuck_ , Zayn is so hard it’s slightly painful. 

“God, Zayn,” Liam pants into his mouth, kissing him again and again.  “You feel really good.”

“I want you so bad,” Zayn whispers against his mouth, drunk on his own courage and this invincible feeling of unreality. He slides his lips across Liam’s cheek, kissing the side of his neck, nipping at the tender skin under his jaw. Liam’s sharp little intake of breath goes straight to his dick.  He can feel Liam’s hand moving across his chest, down to his hip then back up to the side of his face, gently touching his hair.  

“Me too,” whispers Liam in a gaspy little voice that Zayn should find hilarious but is in fact unbelievably sexy. 

I fucking love you, he wants to scream against Liam’s throat.  Instead he sucks a mark into the skin, dragging his tongue over the stubble, circling his lips around that fucking birthmark that drives him crazy every day of his life. Liam moans for real, hand tightening in Zayn’s hair.  His other hand is on Zayn’s thigh, burning a hole in his jeans. 

He drags Zayn’s face up to kiss him again and they tumble back against the expensive pillows, Zayn completely lost in the intoxicating wet-slide of Liam’s lips against his.  It’s so much better than he ever imagined. Liam’s fingers dance hesitantly at the hem of Zayn’s shirt, a wordless question. 

“Take it off,” Zayn mumbles against his lips, breaking the kiss only to let Liam slip the shirt over his head. Liam stares at him for a minute before a huge grin spreads across his face. 

“God, Zayn,” he says again.  “We’re really doing this.”  

“You’ve got to take yours off too,” says Zayn, “got to keep it even.”  His dick twitches with excitement at the thought of Liam taking his top off. Because Zayn told him to.

“Oh, right,” says Liam, leaning forward a little to pull his shirt over his head.  Zayn’s still half on top of him, and Liam smiles up at him.  He pulls Zayn even closer and sits up a little, so Zayn is straddling his lap.

“This is mad,” he remarks, still grinning with his eyes all scrunched up.  “Completely mad.” 

Before Zayn can ask if that’s alright, if being completely mad is a good thing, Liam leans forward to press his lips against Zayn’s chest, sliding over his Arabic tattoo.  Zayn moans, tangling his fingers in Liam’s hair. 

“I love this one,” Liam breathes against his skin, hot and intimate.  “I love all your tattoos but – I really love this one.”  His hands press large and heavy into Zayn’s back, and Zayn thinks dizzily that he would cover himself head to toe in tattoos if it meant Liam would kiss them like that.

Then Liam’s lips close around his nipple and he groans far louder than he meant to.  Liam’s fingers dig into his back, tongue swirling around maddeningly. “Ohh I really like that,” Zayn says, voice a little choked.  Liam’s grip tightens as he starts to suck on it, making Zayn’s back arch. That’s when he realizes he can feel Liam’s dick pulsing beneath him, hard against Zayn’s ass.

“Fuck,” he whispers under his breath, fighting the urge to press down on his own dick, anything to get a little relief. He can hardly wrap his mind around the fact that Liam is hard for him, Liam’s kissing his chest with as much enthusiasm as he does everything, Liam’s hands are creeping lower and lower down his back.  Liam is hard for _him_ and it’s by far the hottest thing that has ever happened in Zayn’s life. 

“Your skin feels amazing, it’s so soft,” says Liam, chatty as ever, and Zayn licks his lips.  He’s about to lunge at Liam’s face again when one of Liam’s hands slips just-a-bit down the back of his jeans.  Their eyes meet, and Zayn bites his lower lip. 

“Oh _yeah_ ,” he says, trying for faux-sexy, but it comes out a little breathy and broken. Liam giggles, no trace of sadness or anger or anxiety, cheeks and nose scrunched up again like when he gets really excited, and Zayn is so lost for him.  It’s always been Liam. 

“Will you kiss me?” Liam asks, tentative. As though there’s a chance Zayn wants to spend any time whatsoever _not_ kissing him.  Zayn moves forward so their chests are pressed together, Liam’s fingers still just-barely grazing the elastic of Zayn’s shorts.  Their bodies shift together and Zayn can feel Liam’s dick pressed against his thigh, hard and insistent.  He bites Liam’s lower lip, licking hard into his mouth. 

Liam’s still a little giggly but he grabs the back of Zayn’s arm hard as their crotches grind together.  Liam’s mouth falls slack and Zayn moans into it. Zayn slides a hand down between their bodies to grip Liam’s thigh, rucking the material up as he slips his hand up his leg.  Liam bucks against him, all anxiety forgotten, urging Zayn on, groping his ass under his jeans.

His dick feels huge, and burning hot even through the sweatpants.  The noise Liam makes when he grabs it is something Zayn will probably remember his entire life. It’s caught between a gasp and a growl, and his eyes are open and dark with lust.  It’s basically every wet dream Zayn’s ever had come to glorious life.  Liam thrusts against his hand as Zayn rubs him.  

“Oh yeah, fuck,” he’s panting, rutting up shamelessly against Zayn’s hand.  He fumbles down under Zayn’s arm and grabs his hip, pulling him closer, grazing his knuckles over Zayn’s boner.  Zayn hisses and bucks his hips forward. 

“Take em off, please,” he moans, not sure whether he’s talking about his pants or Liam’s.  Probably both.  It should be awkward, but the speed at which they both get their pants off is probably a world record.  Then Liam’s naked and grabbing for him and it’s honestly a wonder that Zayn doesn’t come on the spot. 

Their faces are very close.  Zayn’s dick twitches as he feels Liam’s breath on his lips, Liam’s palm warm against his hip. 

“I’ve, um,” Liam says, biting his lip, “I’ve never really, um, done this before – with a guy, I mean –“

“I know,” says Zayn, breathing hard.

“I’m just a bit—nervous, I guess,” says Liam, even as he’s grinding gently against Zayn’s leg.  “I don’t want to mess it up.”

“Not possible,” says Zayn.  He presses a kiss to Liam’s lips, still awed over the fact that he’s actually allowed to do that.  He’s so far gone for Liam that it’s not even funny.  “We can – like, we can do whatever you want. Just tell me what you wanna do.”   

Liam laughs, a little hysterical. “Really dirty things,” he admits. “I wanna get you off.”

Zayn bites his lip, heart hammering against his ribs. “Do it then,” he says. Liam stares at him for half a second then grabs his dick again, shy at first, then closes his fist around it. Zayn’s mouth falls open. He reaches for Liam’s and they find a mutual rhythm, lips crashing messily together, Liam moaning into his mouth. Liam’s cock is slick with precum, huge and pulsing in Zayn’s hand.  It’s so hot.  Zayn wants to do this for the rest of his life.  

He catches Liam’s tongue between his lips, sucking briefly, and Liam thrusts hard against his hand.  Liam’s eyes are open and wild, fixed on Zayn’s face. 

“God you’re so,” he’s gasping, pressing his face into Zayn’s neck, mouth open and wet against his skin.  His voice is muffled, but the desperation in his tone unmistakable. “Fuck. Zayn.  Zayn. D’you mind if I – oh shit, I’m gonna –“ 

He comes with a strangled gasp, nose pressed against Zayn’s cheek.  Zayn nearly loses his mind at the feeling of hot cum splashing over his fist and arm. Liam’s grip relaxes on Zayn’s dick. His eyes are squeezed shut and he says “Oh my god” in a tiny little voice.  _Did you just ask my permission to come_ , Zayn wants to tease, but he can’t find the words.

“Please,” is all he can say, pushing himself against Liam’s hand.  Liam opens his eyes. “Can I…?” he whispers, and Zayn’s not sure what he’s asking for a few seconds, rubbing needily against Liam’s hand. Liam drags his tongue across his lips, eyes so close and _so_ brown that it should be illegal.  Everything about Liam should probably be illegal.  It’s definitely a health hazard. 

“I wanna blow you,” he says, almost like he’s apologizing. Zayn nearly comes in his hand.

“Yeah,” he stutters, and like a flash Liam’s crouched between his legs, teeth pulling on his lower lip. Yes, he should definitely be illegal. 

“I’ve never done this, so I’m probably rubbish,” he’s saying, but it’s hard to concentrate. 

“Not rubbish,” whispers Zayn. It’s hard to breathe. Then Liam’s lips close over the head of his dick and Zayn is totally fucked.  He’s been totally fucked since the moment he first met Liam, to state the facts, but now it’s certain.  He is completely and truly _fucked_ over Liam Payne.   

“Oh Leeyum, god, yeah,” he says mindlessly, running his bandaged fingers through Liam’s hair.  Although he’s had plenty of blowjobs in his life he has no idea if Liam’s rubbish or not, stuck as he is on the fact that this is _Liam_ with his eyelashes fanned out against his hollowed cheeks, _Liam_ with his gorgeous pornographic mouth around Zayn’s cock like something straight out of his late-night fantasies.  He tangles a hand in Liam’s hair and Liam moans around his dick, and fuuuck – 

Zayn doesn’t have time to warn him. His mind screeches to a halt. It’s an explosion of white feathers, a supernova, a shock to the system.  Liam chokes a little and Zayn loosens his grip on his hair, gasping.

“Oh god, sorry!”

“It’s all good,” Liam’s saying, wiping his mouth on the back of his wrist.  He grins up at Zayn, clearly pleased with himself.  “Guess I wasn’t that rubbish.”  

“Not at all,” Zayn says slowly, staring at him. Liam’s a mess. Flushed skin with a bite mark blooming dark on his collarbone and another under his chin.  His hair is flying in every direction.  He’s fucking beautiful.  Liam collapses next to him.  

“Holy shit,” he says, throwing an arm over Zayn.

“Holy shit,” Zayn agrees.  

“Does that mean we forgive each other,” he says. 

“I suppose so,” says Zayn, flipping onto his side. He’s still got cum on his hand, and he wipes it absently on his t-shirt nearby.  

“How’s your hand?” Liam asks. 

“It’s alright.  Bit sore.” 

“Not surprising.  You’re gonna be really unlucky from now on, did you think of that?”

“I guess it hasn’t kicked in yet,” says Zayn, and Liam giggles.  

“It takes a full twenty-four hours, I think,” says Liam. “So you’ve got tonight, and that’s it.”

“Well, I should probably try to fit a lot in tonight,” Zayn says thoughtfully.  

“This is your last chance until you’re like twenty-six,” Liam agrees solemnly.  He grins at Zayn, and Zayn grins back. 

It should be awkward, lying there naked next to Liam with their legs all tangled up, staring into each other’s eyes, but it’s not. It’s the furthest thing from awkward. It feels incredibly right. Liam leans forward and presses a soft kiss to the tip of Zayn’s nose.  He smiles fondly.  Zayn is so fucked.  

“I’m sorry I called you a thick-headed closet case,” says Zayn.  “That was pretty mean.” 

“It was really mean,” Liam says, but he’s smiling. “Cut me deep.”

“Looks like I wasn’t too far off, though.” 

“Hey now,” Liam giggles, tickling Zayn’s sensitive ribs.  “Watch it.” Zayn shrieks, trying to squirm away, but Liam holds him there and kisses him soundly on the mouth.

“I’ve wanted that for the longest time, though,” Zayn says, trying to keep his voice light.  “You have no idea.” 

Liam gives him a half-smile.  “Could’ve fooled me.  Seemed like you wanted to get off with everyone except me.  Or maybe I was like, your last resort.”  

Zayn nuzzles into Liam’s throat. “Jesus Leeyum. Last resort?  I wanted you from, like, the first time I ever saw you.” 

Liam gives him a searching look. “What, at McDonald’s? Was it the sensual way I ate my chicken nuggets?”  

“Yes,” Zayn answers honestly, and Liam laughs. “But I’m serious. I – I love being with you. I’d hate to ever be without you.”   

He feels Liam swallow.  “Me too,” Liam says after a minute, so softly that Zayn feels it rather than hears it.  “I didn’t think you – felt that way about me.  I don’t know. I was confused.” 

“You didn’t think I?” 

“When you’d bring people back, and I – I thought it wasn’t serious, what you felt about me, and I was imagining things, or maybe that you – I don’t know –“ 

“It was always serious,” says Zayn. “Leeyum. I want to do, like, everything with you. You drive me mad and I can’t – can’t live without you.”  

It’s the scariest, most wonderful thing he’s ever said to someone.  He thinks he should feel terrified but he doesn’t, not at all.  It’s just Liam.  It’s hard to feel anything negative when he’s wrapped up in Liam’s arms like this, safe and sated and warm.  

“I never knew that,” Liam says quietly. He laughs.  “No more secrets, huh?”

“No more secrets.”  

Liam kisses him on the mouth, long and full. Zayn kisses back, their tongues lazily twining together.  Zayn’s never kissed anyone like this before.  He didn’t know kisses could have so much feeling.  

“I can’t be without you either,” Liam says, knocking their foreheads gently together.  “You’re my best mate, goes without saying, and plus I – yeah. Can’t be without you, Zaynie.”

I love you, says Zayn in his head. I’m in love with you, Liam James Payne, you sexy, perfect, oblivious nerd.  I love you from your Kanye obsession to your protein shakes to your ridiculous, unfailing kindness.  I’ve been in love with you from the moment I saw you.

“That’s nice,” he says.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you rather a lot lately,” Liam admits.  “Driving me mad. I shouldn’t have – you were right about one thing, at least.  I shouldn’t have invited her here.  I guess I was just – scared?  I don’t know.”

“Scared of what?  Wanting to kiss me?”

“Well . . . yeah,” says Liam with a little laugh. He dips his head and kisses Zayn once on the mouth, fast and solid.  “The way you made me feel.  Felt like I was going crazy.” 

“You drove me crazy too, you wanker,” says Zayn, giving him a little slap on the arm.  “Make me insane.  Every day for like two years.” 

“Well I don’t do it on purpose, do I?”

Zayn shrugs.  “How should I know?  I don’t know what goes through your head.  You’re like the world’s biggest tease.” 

Liam bites his lip, grinning, and kisses Zayn on the tip of the nose.  “I know, you screamed it at me loud enough earlier.  God, I can’t believe we’re – yeah.  I didn’t mean to tease you, Zaynie.  Let me make it up to you.”  

He kisses Zayn on the cheek, on the corner of his mouth, and finally full on his lips.  “Okay,” breathes Zayn into the kiss.  He moans a little into his mouth as Liam’s hand comes up to stroke the side of his face. 

For all his disclaimers about never having done this before, Liam’s amazingly talented at turning Zayn on.  Within minutes he’s got Zayn gasping and writhing against him. Liam climbs on top of him, pressing a kiss to Zayn’s mouth, dick already semi-hard and rubbing against Zayn’s. 

“I cannot fucking believe this is fucking real,” says Zayn, staring up at Liam’s smiling eyes above him, and Liam bursts out laughing. 

“It’s not, I’m just a hologram,” he says, nuzzling his face into Zayn’s neck.  Zayn roams his hands freely over Liam’s muscular back, digging in with his nails when Liam’s breath ghosts over his ear.   Zayn bites his shoulder and Liam yelps, pinning Zayn’s wrists over his head on the pillows. 

Zayn looks up at him.  Liam’s cheeks flushed and his eyes overbright with arousal and laughter.

“I’ve actually had a random fantasy like this,” he announces.  “Holding you like this.” 

“Have you?  What happens next?”

Liam leans down and kisses him. “This,” he mumbles against Zayn’s lips. 

“You’re awful,” groans Zayn, secretly pleased that Liam’s been having fantasies about him.  Liam!  It’s too much to handle.  

“Well, and some other stuff,” Liam admits, letting go of Zayn’s wrists and stroking through his hair.  “I like touching your hair.  You never let me touch it.” 

“I want to hear more about your pervert fantasies,” says Zayn.  “You can touch my hair if you tell me.” 

“They’re pretty straightforward,” says Liam. He’s blushing, Zayn notices with delight. Cute. 

“You’re talking wanking fantasies, right?” Zayn asks. 

“No comment,” Liam says, threading his fingers through Zayn’s hair and massaging his scalp.   It feels amazing.  So does Liam’s dick, still semi-hard, just barely touching his leg.    

“You’ve wanked off over me, I knew it,” Zayn giggles, and Liam blushes even brighter.  “Aw it’s alright Payno, I’ve done it as well.” More times than he can possibly ever count. 

“This is mad,” Liam says for the hundredth time, biting his lower lip.  Zayn wants to bite it too.  

“It’s not mad, it’s great,” says Zayn, pulling Liam down for a long kiss.  

“It’s your fault, y’know.  After you kissed me last time, I couldn’t – it was all I could think about,” says Liam.  “I wanted to grab your face and snog you silly half the time.  I couldn’t concentrate on anything.” 

Zayn’s cheeks flush with warmth, pleased that he’d had that kind of reaction in Liam, even though he hadn’t known it. “Oh yeah?” 

“Yes, definitely,” says Liam. “And I wanted – oh god. It’s embarrassing.”

“Liam, you’re sat on top of me with your willy out, how can you possibly be embarrassed?” 

“I’ve found a way, I don’t know.” 

“Tell me,” Zayn urges.  

“I wanted to get you on your knees,” Liam whispers, blushing hard, and Zayn can literally feel the blood rushing to his cock. “I wanted to see how you’d look with my dick in your mouth.  I got so turned on at the show a few nights ago just watching you sing, it was – well, you know what happened.” 

Zayn does know.  He remembers quite well the feeling of Liam’s hands on his hips as he dragged him offstage.  He hasn’t stopped replaying it in his mind for the last week.  It was supposed to be a joke, but it wasn’t.  How could it be, with Liam’s cock hard and straining against his ass?  They acted like it was just a joke, but it wasn’t. 

“And I wanted – other stuff.”

“Other stuff?” 

“Other stuff,” says Liam.  His eyes are dark again, teeth still worrying at his lower lip as he looks at Zayn.  “I just want _you_ , Zayn.” 

Liam’s dick twitches a little while he says it and Zayn says “oh fuck,” and Liam kisses him, hard, rolling them over so Zayn’s on top. Their hands scrabble at each other, tongues dueling furiously.  Liam’s got one hand fisted in Zayn’s hair and he’s saying something into his mouth but Zayn can’t make it out.  His dick grinds briefly against Liam’s, red-hot contact that’s got him gasping.  

Liam’s other hand is firmly on his ass, groping and kneading and making Zayn moan.  He pulls back and gives it a little slap.  Zayn groans and grinds down harder against him.  He grabs Liam’s hand, guiding it between his cheeks to press briefly at his entrance. 

“Oh god,” says Liam, bucking his hips up against Zayn. He presses a little harder, just enough to make Zayn gasp.  

“Yeah, that’s good, I like that,” Zayn encourages, pressing hot little kisses against Liam’s mouth and jaw.  

“Can I fuck you,” Liam breathes against his lips, “can I please, is that – are we –“ 

“Leeyum, god,” Zayn groans, “how can you even think – yes, of course –“   

Liam grabs his ass, hard, and pulls Zayn’s hips against his own, grinding their cocks together.  He’s gasping, pink-cheeked with his hair clinging sweaty to his forehead. 

“I’ve got some things,” says Zayn, “in my bag, it’s just over there, let me –“ 

Liam releases him to fumble over the edge of the bed into his duffel bag, where he’s got lube and condoms in the inside pocket. Liam’s staring at him when he turns back around, lips parted.  Zayn raises his eyebrows.  

“You don’t have to look so bloody terrified,” he says with a little laugh.  

“M’not,” says Liam, shaking his head, a little breathless.  He reaches for Zayn, who pulls him down onto the bed, still drunk on the feeling of Liam’s bare skin under his fingers.  It’s real, it’s Liam, it’s so much better than he ever dreamed. 

“Just kiss me,” Zayn urges, and Liam does, nipping at Zayn’s lip.  Zayn grabs his hand and presses the bottle of lube into it.  “Please,” he mumbles, other hand tight around Liam’s bicep. 

“Well here, turn over, like,” Liam’s saying, guiding Zayn onto his stomach.  He lays down next to him, propped up on his elbow, lips tight.  “I’ve never,” he says, trailing off.  

“I know.  Me either.  Not like this, anyway.” 

“You’ll tell me if it hurts, right?” 

“Oh my god Payno,” Zayn rolls his eyes, twisting his head around to look at Liam, “I’m not your delicate princess, I’ll be fine.” But privately he’s pleased at Liam’s concern, that Liam wants to make him feel good, make sure he’s alright. Fucking perfect Liam, pressing a few kisses to the back of his shoulder.  Zayn hears the snap of the lid and then Liam’s finger is pressed against him, just there, and Zayn’s heart does a backflip.  

“Really tight,” says Liam, and Zayn tries to relax as Liam pushes a thick finger slowly up inside him.  It hurts.  It hurts quite a lot, actually, but Zayn enjoys the pain, the slow, dragging burn of it. Liam’s other hand is on his lower back, stroking, gentle and soothing.  He buries his head in his arms and feels Liam’s lips press against his shoulder. 

“Alright?” 

“Yeah, keep going,” he says, muffled.

“Does it – does that feel good?” Liam asks, bewildered. 

“Yeah,” says Zayn, holding his breath as Liam pulls the finger almost all the way out, then pushes back in. “Feels good, don’t stop.” 

Liam adds a second finger, and Zayn squeezes his eyes shut, breathing shallow.  Liam has nice, big fingers and Zayn would be lying if he said he’d never thought about Liam twisting them up into his ass.  He can hear Liam breathing.  He sounds nervous.  Zayn’s breath catches when both of Liam’s fingers are fully in him.  Liam stills his hand at once, stricken. 

“Sorry—“ 

“No, It’s alright Lee,” Zayn chokes out. “Keep going.”  There is nothing he wants more in this world than to feel Liam’s cock buried in his ass.    He’s on a mission now, and there’s no going back. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” says Liam stubbornly.

“You’re not, I promise.”  

“Okay,” says Liam, sounding skeptical. He twists his fingers inside Zayn gently, moving them apart, stretching him out.  Zayn chokes out a little laugh at how cautious he’s being, and how he claimed he didn’t know anything about this when he’s obviously got a pretty good idea of how to prepare someone’s ass for a cock. He hopes he’ll remember to tease Liam about that later.  

When Liam starts to push three fingers up into him, Zayn huffs out a big breath and grits his teeth.  The pain goes straight to his dick, along with the fact that it’s _Liam_ with his big strong fingers, three in Zayn’s ass and five at the base of his spine, tracing soothing little circles over his skin.  He’s just barely brushing something inside of Zayn that’s making him catch his breath in a different way, something slithering and delicious. 

“You okay? You okay?” Liam keeps asking, like he forgets the answer every five seconds.  It’s annoying, and adorable.  

“Yeah, just fuck me already,” Zayn grits out, and Liam lets out a surprised little giggle.  

“I _really_ want to,” he says, laughing, incredulous and delighted.

“Please do it,” says Zayn, pushing his ass against Liam’s hand.  His dick is fully hard, trapped against the comforter, swollen and aching.  

“Are you sure you’re ready?”

“Leeyum.” 

“Okay, okay, twist my arm,” says Liam, pulling out his fingers.  “Will you – I want to see you.”  

Zayn twists around onto his back, settling against the pillows.  Liam’s knelt between his legs, a rosy blush over his chest and shoulders, spreading up into his cheeks. He’s looking at Zayn like he’s briefly forgotten how to speak.  Zayn smiles up at him, dizzy with fondness. 

“C’mere Payno,” he says, reaching to grab a condom. Liam watches hungrily as Zayn rips it open with his mouth.  He sucks in through his teeth when Zayn rolls it down onto his cock, standing up hard and rigid. 

“Alright, there ya go,” says Zayn, laying back. “Have at it.” Liam swallows visibly. 

“And you’ll let me know –“ 

“I won’t if you keep asking me,” Zayn interrupts, “I won’t say a word, and then I’ll complain horribly afterwards and let you feel guilty about it for the rest of your life.”  

“That’s not very nice,” Liam mutters, pouting. He squeezes more lube onto his hand and rubs it gently over his cock, giving Zayn a dark look. 

Zayn watches open-mouthed, the sarcasm dying in his mouth.  His chest suddenly feels very tight.  He watches the ripple of Liam’s abs as he moves, the dips and curves of his biceps, his strong thick fingers.  Liam is fucking sexy, and he’s never been quite sexier than in this moment, naked and sweaty, lubing up his cock to fuck him.  

“You better tell me,” Liam warns with a pointed look, thumbing over the dark heart on Zayn’s hip, and then he’s pressing the blunt head of his cock _just_ there and Zayn’s real heart is thudding out of control. 

“Aghh,” he squeaks out involuntarily when Liam breaches him, looking up into Liam’s eyes.  Familiar honey-brown, pupils blown wide with arousal.  “You have nice eyes,” he says without meaning to, breathing shallow through the pain.  

“Thanks,” says Liam, smiling like he’s genuinely touched.  “So do you. Really nice eyes. I’ve always thought so.”   

He’s pressing into Zayn so slowly it’s almost like he isn’t even moving.  Zayn’s impatient but it also hurts.  It really fucking hurts a lot, actually.  Liam’s cock is much thicker than his fingers.  It’s long too, surprisingly long.  Although Zayn’s seen his dick on multiple occasions, Liam’s full erection is fairly mind-blowing. 

Liam’s got both hands on his hips now, tracing little patterns into his skin, eyes on his face.  “I wanna ask if you’re alright, but I don’t want to get told off,” he says jokingly, voice a little strained.  He looks like he’s holding himself back.  Zayn’s cock jumps at the thought of Liam wanting to just pound into him and fuck him senseless.  

“I’m great,” says Zayn.  “Never better.”  He gives his dick a few loose strokes.  Liam watches, sucking in a breath.  

“Let me,” he says, knocking Zayn’s hand away and replacing it with his own.  Zayn moans at the feeling of Liam’s hand on his cock and Liam’s dick halfway inside him, burning and huge, filling him up.  Liam moans a little too, cheeks flushing darker pink.  He pulls out a little and pushes back in further, and it hurts so perfectly that Zayn wants to scream.  

“Harder,” he whispers, half-hopeful and half-scared. Liam gives him this _look_ like “don’t fucking push me,” and Zayn laughs, a little manic.  Liam’s almost all the way inside him now, he can tell by how close they are, almost skin-on-skin and he’s on fire in the best way.  

“God, you’re so tight,” Liam moans, wiping a hand over his face.  

“You like that?” Zayn breathes, shifting his hips against Liam just-barely, feeling his cock move inside.  It’s too much and not enough at the same time. 

“Fuck yeah,” says Liam, voice low and dark. “I love it.”  His hand has stilled on Zayn’s cock and he drags it up Zayn’s stomach, over his chest, brushing across his lips.  They watch each other for a bare moment, Liam’s chest rising and falling slowly as he tries to regulate his breathing. 

“You’re gorgeous,” he says finally, eyes wide and bewildered.  

“Aw, stop it Leeyum,” says Zayn, grinning in spite of himself.  Liam’s hips jut forward just the tiniest amount and Zayn gasps.  

“I’m sorry,” Liam says quickly, stricken. 

“Don’t be,” Zayn says, digging his fingers into Liam’s forearm, “stop apologizing and do it again.” 

Liam pulls out slightly and pushes back in, still so slowly, like he’s afraid Zayn’s going to break.  Zayn pushes back against him gently, until they’ve built up a soft rhythm, and it doesn’t hurt quite so much anymore. 

“That’s really good,” Zayn whispers, grasping Liam’s biceps, nails digging into his skin.  

“Ah god,” says Liam in a choked voice, hips moving faster like he can’t control himself.  “Please Zaynie, promise you’ll tell me –“

“You’re not hurting me Lee, I swear!” To prove his point, Zayn moans loudly, throwing his head back against the pillows.  

“That’s really hot,” says Liam, almost like he can’t believe it.  “Stop it, stop, you’re gonna make me come too fast.”  

“I can’t stop,” whispers Zayn, licking his lips. “Born this way.” 

Liam laughs wildly, reaching down to give Zayn a messy kiss.  “Babe,” he says wonderingly. 

He feels so _full_ and Liam’s hands holding his hips in place are driving Zayn mildly insane. His cock bobs leaking against his stomach, but he'll come if he touches it.  

Liam’s fucking him properly now, deep and still quite gentle, but harder than before with his mouth open and eyes half-lidded. So this is what Liam looks like, Zayn thinks.  It’s something he’s spent many hours imagining –What would Liam look like as he fucks me? – and it’s finally right in front of him.  He wants to draw it, paint it maybe, frame it permanently in his memory. 

“Ah god,” groans Liam, pushing into Zayn with real force, and Zayn moans, dragging his nails across Liam’s shoulders, gripping his arms for support.  “I dunno how long I’m gonna last,” Liam admits, breathing hard, pausing for an instant with his cock thick and unyielding inside Zayn.  “You feel really – fucking good, Zayn –“ 

Zayn shifts his hips up against Liam on his next thrust, and they both moan at the new angle.  Liam’s got his hands braced on either side of Zayn and he’s really going for it now, fucking him soundly with little grunts of effort that Zayn wants to swallow. Zayn can’t stop staring at him, full lips bitten red and sweat droplets on his forehead, bangs curling wet and dark, throat stretched tight and his arms trembling on either side of Zayn’s body. Definitely a painting. 

Liam angles his hips and suddenly Zayn’s seeing nothing but stars, and he squeaks out “Leeyum,” as he hits that spot again, and again, wrapping a hand around Zayn’s cock.  Zayn can feel it building low and slippery in his belly, tight dark heat spreading from his balls up into his chest.  It’s like being dragged under a wave but Zayn isn’t afraid and then he’s coming with a shout, spurting over his belly and chest, bracing his hands against the headboard as he grinds down on Liam’s dick.  

“Fuck, oh fuck,” Liam’s muttering, staring at him, one hand on the bed and the other gripping Zayn’s leg, hitching it up, pounding into him.  “M’gonna – oh god –“ He fucks into Zayn so hard their bodies are shaking, sweat dripping from Liam’s face down onto Zayn and he bites his lip, meeting Liam’s eyes, which are wide and desperate.  

“Come on then Leeyum,” he says, breathing heavy, watching Liam through his eyelashes.  “Do it.”  

Liam gives a strangled shout, going very still over Zayn with his head dropped, bangs flopping wetly over his forehead. Zayn can actually feel his cock pulsing as he comes.  The tiny muscles in Liam’s throat work soundlessly for a few seconds and then he’s exhaling hard, hand grazing down Zayn’s body to his hip, murmuring something unintelligible.

I love you, I love you so much, Zayn says in his mind. Liam looks him in the eye like he heard somehow.  His smile is brighter than any sunrise, not that Zayn’s seen a lot of sunrises.  

“Brilliant,” Liam whispers, which is so dorky that Zayn wants to kiss him until he suffocates.  He pulls out slowly, making Zayn grit his teeth, then nuzzles against his cheek.  “You’re amazing,” he states softly, pressing a kiss to the tender skin under his jaw. 

“Thanks,” says Zayn, because he doesn’t know what else to say.  Liam’s giving out compliments like candy and it makes Zayn want to swell and shrink at the same time. “That was.  Wow.”  

“It was wow,” Liam agrees.  “We should’ve been doing this all along.” He grins at Zayn, who wants to smack him but doesn’t have the arm strength. 

“I’ll still whack you, Payno,” he threatens. “When you least expect it.” 

Liam giggles and rolls away from him. “Too soon? I’m sorry.”

He stands up, shaking the sweat out of his hair, and Zayn hears him throw the condom in the bin.  

“Come on,” says Liam, “let’s get washed up.”

Zayn watches him lazily, feeling heavy and sated. “How are you standing?” he asks, bewildered. His ass feels pleasantly sore, his body loose and boneless.  Liam waggles his eyebrows.  “It’s shower time,” he says. “Don’t make me carry you.” 

“You can’t carry me,” Zayn says nonsensically. He’s definitely wrong. Liam can absolutely carry him and has proven it on several occasions.  Zayn isn’t sure how to properly process what’s happening.  It seems bad.  Moving is bad. 

“Of course I can, what do you think I spend all those hours in the gym for?”  

“Don’t carry me anywhere,” Zayn mumbles. “Need my consent. No carrying.”  

“Sorry love,” says Liam, and scoops Zayn up, pressing a kiss to his cheek.  “Oof, you’re heavier than I thought.”   

“Are you calling me fat,” says Zayn, wrapping his arm around Liam’s shoulder, still slick with cooling sweat. 

“You’re the perfect size,” says Liam, setting him down on the rug outside the bathroom.   Zayn grimaces at the feeling of the hotel rug under his bare feet. Seems unhygienic. He hops into the bathroom, the tiles cool under his sweaty feet.   

“Thank god we did this,” he says, staring at his own wrecked reflection in the mirror.  He’s got a random bruise on his arm, and some thumb-shaped red marks on his hips. His hair is a complete mess, any semblance of a quiff utterly destroyed.  “Otherwise I think we might’ve killed each other.”  

“I’d never kill you Zaynie,” says Liam, turning on the shower.  “But I am up for a little shower cuddling if you’re still feeling murderous.”  

“I’m always feeling murderous towards you,” Zayn says. He hooks his hands into claws and grimaces at Liam in the mirror.  Liam gives him an injured look and hops under the steaming spray.  

Zayn inspects himself in the mirror once more. Not even two hours ago he was ready to throw Liam out of a moving vehicle and now he’s about to get in the shower with him and probably suck his dick.  Zayn grins at himself in disbelief.  

“Are you coming in?” Liam asks impatiently.

“Calm down Payno, it’s been like twenty seconds. Are you that desperate to hold my naked body again?” 

“Yes!” says Liam from inside the shower. 

“Oh fine,” says Zayn, and steps into the shower. Liam’s arms fold around him immediately, strong and warm.  

“Finally.” 

“Finally,” Zayn agrees, and kisses him.


End file.
